husband of the Swiss mountains and mountain climbs,
she revived visibly. There, in the musty office, or in the physicians'
private rooms, arose the glorious vision of Sentis, in the face of which
Mrs. Schmidt had been rocked in her cradle. The conversation, of course,
turned on Scheffel's "Ekkehard," the chamois reserve, Lake Constance, and
St. Gall. They recalled memories of a Rigi tour, a tour up from Lake
Lucerne at Fluelen to Goeschenen, from Goeschenen to Andermatt, from
Andermatt up over the Rhone glacier and down to the wonderful Grimsel
Hospice, with its clear icy-cold lake, which lies in a rocky funnel, like
the entrance to the kingdom of shades. One looks about to see if Charon's
raft is not waiting. Mrs. Schmidt said she would rather be the dirtiest
shepherdess on Sentis than a physician in Meriden.

"Very well," cried Peter, "we will cross the ocean again and settle in
Berne or Zuerich." As always when Peter Schmidt made this proposition,
Mrs. Schmidt's face took on an expression of hard, hostile determination.
It did not escape Frederick's notice.

Everything Mrs. Schmidt said testified to her humanity and her clear,
serious, sympathetic insight. What a pity she had forgotten how to laugh!
What a pity she was not Ratsherr Willibald Pirkheimer's stately,
respected wife, surrounded by his healthy children! Her broad shoulders
and hips, her long, thick hair required the soft curves of a body
blooming in happiness, sunlight and wealth. As it was, her face, though
she was only twenty-seven years old, was fearfully worn and anxious, and
her shabby clothes hung carelessly on her angular figure. Nevertheless,
Frederick perceived the beauty even in her neglected appearance.

Naturally Peter Schmidt, the blond Friesian, also suffered under these
conditions, but not to such an extent as to be shaken in his peculiar,
deep-seated idealism. It was his idealism, never for an instant forsaking
him, that raised him above all momentary hardships. This very fact, it
seemed to Frederick, only added to his wife's vexation. From certain
remarks of hers, he could tell that it would have been more pleasing to
her had Peter cared more for his own advancement and less for the
advancement of humanity at large. No man possessed firmer belief than he
in the triumph of good, and no man rejected religious beliefs with
greater horror. He was one of those who disavow the Garden of Eden and
declare the next world to be a myth, yet are fir